And the little one behind you is Mouse
by Matrix-Twin1
Summary: My thoughts about Mouse's past, from his childhood to his death. Just a sad little story about a sad little Matrix character.
1. Everything the body needs

Disclaimer: Blah blah, no Matrix characters or anything Matrix related belongs to me. Not like you think I do, anyway.  
  
Summary: I've always found Mouse rather intruiging, from the first time I saw the Matrix. After a while, I endevoured to write a fic about him. This was forgotten for some time (Mr. Anderson) until I recently discovered it and realized it wasn't as bad as I had thought, with a little refinement. Anyway, this fic is my thoughts about who Mouse is, where he's come from, and just about his life, from his childhood until his death. (Oh damn this could get long... Going through the whole of The Matrix... Ah well) Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 1: It doesn't have everything the body needs.  
  
Theo got home from school about half an hour late. He hadn't called home, but no one had noticed. No one would care if he never showed up from school one day. In fact, his mother would probably be happy to not have to 'look after' him. Not that she did, anyway. He slunk in inconspicuously. Or tried to. His mother hung up the phone she had been slurring into, and slowly looked up. As he picked his way through the junk to his room, she seemed sober enough to have seen him.   
  
"You! That was your principal! Again. He says... That if you don't get at least one mark over 50%, you're going to be expelled." This speech seemed to have exhausted her. She took another drag at the bottle of cheap beer beside her. "You had better smarten up! Or else!"  
  
He was intelligent, really. Very intelligent. He knew it. He was just...Differently intelligent. And, after having come to grade two knowing all the material, and experiencing the harsh reality of the school yard, he had learned to hide this aptitude of his under a façade of dull, blank expressions. 'Well,' he thought, 'I guess I'd better get that mark. Otherwise I'll have to be home with her all day.'...  
  
  
  
The next day, at school, he began paying attention in class. He tried hard, he really did. It was all just so boring and pointless. He knew all the things they were 'teaching' him. He could say this in complete honesty, without it being a brag. Not that anyone knew this. He wished, sometimes, that he had someone, anyone, to talk to. About anything. He sometimes cried about that, but not often. He couldn't afford to, he was too small and disliked to appear weak. As he was lost in these thoughts, he dimly heard his teacher's voice. It appeared to be talking to him. It sounded smug. He was sure he didn't want to know why...  
  
"Theo! Answer question 12, now!" Ah. That was why he sounded smug. He thought Theo hadn't been paying attention. Stupid jerk, thinking it was funny to pick on people who were actually thinking. Unlike him.  
  
Theo paused a second, but only a second. What class was this again? They all ran together in his head. It was math... "(-3x - 14y) + (22x + 13y) is 19x plus -1y.  
  
The teacher paused a moment, to flick through his answer sheet. "Correct." He looked disappointed, and moved on to his next victim.   
  
The day dragged by. Some of the more alert teachers commented happily on his increased attention, but they seemed to think it had something to do with their marvelous teaching. Theo spent most of the day thinking about his future. What he saw was such a horrible, dark nothingness of elementary, followed by high school, followed by no university, followed by some crappy, awful job that he would hate and be bored by, followed by a retirement in some junk heap of a home, and then death. Out of that, death looked the most promising. He began to seriously contemplate suicide, just to escape it all. Out. He wanted out. Something was wrong with the world. Just the very world itself felt wrong to him. Like all the happiness was just being drained out some giant sieve, leaving only the dregs of misery.  
  
At lunch, some bright speck appeared on his dark horizon. This speck appeared in the form of a boy Theo dimly knew. This boy lived on his street, he thought. What was his name? John? Jake? Something like that. The boy approached, cautiously. All the kids in his grade six class thought he was 'weird'. Not that he cared. When the intruder got close enough, Theo suddenly spoke.  
  
"What do you want? Come to torment me about my Mom, too?"  
  
The boy, Theo was pretty sure it was John, looked surprised. Like he hadn't thought Theo could speak. "N-no. I've noticed how unhappy you always look, so I thought you might want in on my Plan." The way he said plan made Theo picture it with a capital 'P'.  
  
"And what plan might that be?"  
  
"A way out."  
  
Theo sat up so sharply he almost fell off the jungle gym he was perched on. Could it be true, that This Boy was the escape he had dreamed of for so long? The one who would come and take him away to some distant land where he would have adventures and be brave and big and loved and...  
  
"Yeah, I knew you'd be interested! You see, I know a way to the City that isn't watched..."  
  
Theo leaned back again, cursing himself silently for getting his hopes up like that. Puerile. He wasn't all that interested. Even if this boy could get him into the City, which he doubted, it was so heavily guarded by the Men who Wore Suits, what would be there for him? Only more of the same. One thing Theo had discovered was that whenever he was Here he wanted to be There. Whenever he ate This he wanted to be eating That. Whatever he did or wherever he went, it wasn't what he wanted. Still, the City might be a little better than here. If he could get an ID showing that he belonged in the City instead of the Burbs, he might just be able to do something with his life...  
  
He realized that the John boy was watching him, expecting some kind of answer. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Great. What is it?"  
  
"Well, I know this one bus driver, and he..."  
  
As Theo listened to the boy's Plan, he realized that it just might work. He was tempted, he had to admit. When the boy was done, and asked, "So, are you in?" and offered his hand, Theo clasped it in his own. He was getting out. They decided to leave that very night... 


	2. I know, I know

"Theo! C'mon, this is our chance to get out of here, see the City. Unless you've chickened out..."  
  
"Huh?" Theo was jolted from his sleep by the cry outside his window. "Be quiet, John! Are you trying to wake my mom up and get us caught?" Theo switched on his bedside lamp. It flickered once and went out. "Stupid piece of junk!" Cursing, he stumbled around his room until he found the bag holding all his stuff. "Alright, let's get out of here."  
  
The two boys had already bought tickets for the bus to the City. They had no money, but for them that wasn't a problem. As long as they got away from here. The trip was long, but uneventful. At the city border, they were flagged down by one of the Men who Wore Suits. Both Theo and John caught their breaths and tried to look small. When the driver and the Man started talking, Theo felt that he needed to hear what was being said. As carefully as he could, he inched his window open, just a crack. Then he settled next to it to listen. When a person was as small as he was, it paid to listen, always.  
  
"What do you have tonight?" That was the Man.  
  
"Nothin' special. Coupla old geezers, paira runnaways..." The boys flinched at this. "Not much."  
  
"No rebels?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Good."  
  
"So we c'n pass?"  
  
"We really do not care about children and old humans trying to escape their miserable lives by going to the City. You know that. Leave, now, before my superior comes." The driver hurried to comply, and they traveled on.  
  
When they arrived in the city, the two went their separate ways. Theo never saw John again, but several years later he heard that John had ended up getting arrested. He had no idea why.   
  
Theo lived on the street, surviving by his wits. He knew, however, that this couldn't last forever. Winter was coming. The other denizens of the streets were just too violent, he was no match for any of them in a fight. He needed a way out. But how? He had no money, he hadn't finished elementary, let alone high school, so he couldn't get a job. He had nothing and no one.  
  
One day, his way out found him in a very unusual way. He woke up, feeling the refrigerator box he had been living in being kicked. He crawled out and saw that he was surrounded by about eight children, ranging in age from seven to fourteen. Each had a gun. He had no idea how or where they had gotten them, but it seemed almost everyone but him had one.  
  
"Hey you! We heard that you have a buncha food in there, and we're here to get it. Out!"  
  
Theo left the box. "Whatever you have heard about me having food is a lie. I have no food..." That was true enough, he was always on the edge of starvation. He lived off what he happened to find, beg or steal. He couldn't bring himself to eat of garbages, though. He had tried, once, but had thrown it all back up. He had just kept on thinking about all the parasites and diseases in it until he had upset his stomach enough to throw it up.  
  
One of the surrounding boys, or was it a girl, sneered and came closer. "Huh! You think you're so smart, talk so fancy. We don' t like you around here!"  
  
He felt the first bullet hit him, followed by two more. He fell over, sure he was dead. Darkness fell over him. He couldn't help but feel some thanks.  
  
He awoke in a house. An old man was standing over him. "You're alright now. The doctors took the bullets out, you're gonna live." He was a little bitter at this, that he wasn't dead. The way Theo thought was, he didn't like being alive, but if he was alive he wasn't going to go out of his way to change that. But if he had tragically been shot to death...  
  
Unfortunately, he lived, just as the old man had said. As soon as he was well enough, his saviour took got him a job at a store that sold computers. Theo had never had much to do with computers. It wasn't like his mother could afford one, and his school was much too cheap to. Pretty much the only ones he had ever used had been at the library. He didn't especially like the job, but it meant food, money, and he felt safer than he had on the street.   
  
He had enough money for his own small apartment. In his spare time, he got his employer, a smallish man named Jenkins, he didn't know if it was his first or last name, to teach him about computers. He learned basic programming, repairs, terminology, and everything else he could. He loved it, as fast as he was taught, he wanted more. Eventually, he knew everything Jenkins could tell him. By that time, however, he had enough money saved up to go to college.   
  
He passed the exam with flying colours, he was, after all, a genius. He read his text books within the first week, and found that this just wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to learn. He didn't know quite what he wanted to know, but it wasn't any of this business-related computer junk. It felt WRONG to him to use computers for boring things like accounting. No, he thought, they must have a special purpose. He amused himself with the internet for a while, but he knew that even that wasn't 'it'. One day, however, he found it. His true calling. It was just a small site, called 'So you want to be a hacker', or some trash like that, but it called to him in a way nothing had before. He quit college, his job, and bought himself a computer. He learned everything he could about hacking, from books, magazines, word of mouth, whatever he could. He was happier than he ever had been before. He was respected, no one saw him face to face, he had power, money... What more could he want? Well, women, he supposed, but he was just so busy...   
  
One day, he found something very, very odd in his email.  
  
"What? Who the hell is hacker_underground@untracable.com? I had stupid hotmail on highest filter..." He opened the email, cautiously. He could NOT afford a virus... The message was short and to the point.  
  
"It has come to our attention that you are an up-and-coming hacker. Come to 405 Morgan Lane at exactly 6:00 tomorrow."  
  
There it was. No explaination, no signature. No name. Nothing. He didn't know what to do. Should he go? In the end, he did. He thought it might be a trap of some sort, but he didn't especially care.   
  
The next day found him outside the building, a dingy duplex. No one appeared to have lived in it for at least twenty-five years, and it had a condemned sign. No one could be seen for at least a block.   
  
He started to get nervous and talk to himself. "It's either a trap... or a weird joke. In either case, I shouldn't have come. It was stupid. I should just get out of here..." But he didn't. It was at least 6:30 before one of the duplex's doors opened. He jumped at the sudden movement, and only caught sight of an arm beckoning him to a side door before it slammed shut again. He was very aprehensive, but he thought 'Well, I've come this far...'  
  
He walked up the crumbling driveway, and walked through the open side door. The interior was totally different than the exterior, and if he hadn't known better, he would have said it was a different building. He just stood on the fancy doormat, blinking, until he heard an impatient voice from down the stairs in front of him.  
  
"You! Kid! You just gonna stand there all day, or are you gonna find our what's going on?"  
  
He was so nervous that he jumped, and almost fell down the stairs. He swallowed, hard, and started down the heavy, red carpet, past doors leading to modestly rich rooms. 


	3. Because you have to wonder now

It turned out that the man was an ex-hacker, who had changed his career in his old age. He now trained hackers-to-be. Most of the 'training' consisted of a variety of increasingly difficult programs, written by himself, that the hacker had to hack. While being timed. Theo, or 'Mouse' (his alias) was a fast and eager learner. He came to the old man's duplex everyday, taking the bus from the apartment he had rented. This lasted for about a year, until one day.  
  
Mouse had gotten off at the stop about two blocks from the building, as usual, and as he approached the duplex he noticed something was wrong. The building was surrounded by police cars. He just had time for a flash of the Old Man being shoved into an unmarked car by three men in black suits before he ran. His training, he knew, was over. He was on his own.  
  
He didn't get off to any brilliant start, he had to fight his way from the bottom up. And he never was all that successful. He stayed on in his apartment, not doing too badly. For him, though, this was luxury. He was never hungry, and that really mattered to him. Best of all, he was on his own. Doing what he wanted (and liked), when he wanted, with who he wanted. He would have been content to hack forever. Although, forever didn't seem much farther from next Tuesday.  
  
It was a cold September night. Mouse, as usual, was sitting at his computer, ignoring the time. He was Working, the only Work that mattered.   
  
"So... this little bastard doesn't want to pay me? Nice try, sucker." He called a contact of his, who put him in contact with His contact. This contact gave him a location, a time, and an amount. It was a little steep, but reasonable. The next night, at eight PM sharp, Mouse was sitting in the booth of a run-down bar, right in the middle of downtown. He shivered. He was having second thoughts. "This is dangerous. I shouldn't have come. I don't need the money. But no. It's not about the money. I need my rep. Yeah." He had just convinced himself of this when a black haired, greasy looking man slid into the booth across from him. His too-pale skin looked dead and waxy. Mouse suppressed another shudder.  
  
"So," the man's voice was exactly how Mouse had imagined. It grated and shrieked against his ears, "you got a job for Apocalypse?" Just saying the assassin's name aloud seemed to make it more real.  
  
"No. For Apoc."  
  
The man laughed, a horrible nasal chuckle. "Apoc IS Apocalypse. Don't worry, he's the best."  
  
'Great', thought Mouse, 'the best ASSASSIN..." He forced himself to smile. "Fine, yes. Apocalypse."  
  
"Gimme the money. I'll see that he gets it."  
  
"You'd better."  
  
"Oh ho! No one, and I mean no one, cheats Apoc. Oh no, not that one..." He rambled on for a while. Mouse fished in the pocket of his tattered coat for the envelope. He finally located it, barely containing a sigh. He handed it to the man, who made it vanish before Mouse could blink. "Nice doin' business with ya."  
  
He was gone. Mouse got up, paid for his drink, and walked back to his apartment. Only when he was safely behind the locked door did he allow himself to collapse. He slept fitfully, and remembered none of his dreams.  
  
When he awoke, the little red light of his answering machine was demanding his immediate attention. An unfamiliar voice grated from the little box. "Come down to the Hot Joy immediately. There's been a change of plan."  
  
It took him a moment to remember that the Hot Joy was the bar where he had met The Man. Shit. This was definitely bad. He took a few minutes to get ready, and far too soon found himself standing in the bar. A man was sitting at the same booth as before, but it wasn't the same man. This one had long, black hair, carefully twisted and slicked back. He was wearing entirely black, and he was very dangerous. Mouse knew this instinctively. This was not a man to piss off. Mouse swallowed and approached the booth.  
  
As he sat down, he could feel the man assessing him. He could almost feel the smirk, the final conclusion. Small, mousy-blond hair, dainty hands. Nondescript. Well, screw him.   
  
"You must be Mouse."  
  
He gave a half-nod. "And you are?" He suspected, but he felt he needed to ask.  
  
"Apocalypse." He gave a little smile as he said that.   
  
'Great,' Mouse thought. My very own Apocalypse-in-a-bar. Outloud he said "Why am I here?"  
  
"Ask a philosopher. I only know why I am here. My contact was killed tonight, leaving me with some unfinished business... I found the envelope, figured I should make sure you want to go on with this."  
  
Mouse hesitated, then nodded.  
  
"Fine. I'll be done in three weeks. You'll get your money." He left as he had come, without greeting. Mouse realized he was shaking. He felt that he had just passed some bizarre rights of passage. He just wanted to be home.  
  
AN: Oh boy! Now that Mouse and Apoc have met, we're getting closer to the good part! I have an RPG that'll fit the plot nicely, later on... Yep, I'll be updating more now that I'm passed the tricky spot. Worry not, oh few readers... And hey! If some a you are reading without reviewing, lemme know you're there, huh? Thankies! *Mouse chibis for all!* 


	4. What does that mean?

The next morning, he awoke feeling better.   
  
'After all,' he reasoned, 'I'm paying him. Why would he hurt me?'  
  
He had a quick breakfast of Tasty Wheat, and got right down to business. His latest client wanted to know if the FBI wanted him. That was too easy. He didn't even need to hack. He had a contact whose sister's husband's niece's best friend's son worked for the FBI. And sold its secrets for a little pocket money. He had the passwords, all up to date.  
  
He scanned the ultra-secret "DOA" (dead or alive, for all you non-Star Wars BH RPGers) listing. Sure enough, there was his client's name, with a fair amount of money beside it. His hand was actually on his phone to call the man, when he noticed another name.  
  
  
  
Theodore Hall. DOA. $1,000,000 USF.  
  
He blinked. The name was still there. It was his own. He let his hand fall to his side. He didn't know what to do. His mind was blank. A name floated across the emptiness. Apocalypse. He KNEW, with his whole body, that the assassin would be coming after him. A few seconds later, he wondered why, but he was still certain. He shivered.   
  
When Apoc arrived at the Assassin Complex, a message awaited him on his computer. It was from the FBI, one of their standard DOA's, some information, an address, and... a picture. He stared at it a few minutes. It was rather blurry and in black and white, but it was undoubtedly the 'Mouse' he had met only the day before. No matter. Apocalypse didn't especially like hackers, sniveling little people that they were. This was just another kill. He made ready to go out.  
  
Mouse had no idea what to do. He thought about leaving, but decided that no matter where he went he would be found, so he might as well stay. He forced himself to get up, walk over to the door. He locked it, for all the good it would do. His rational mind had shut off. He was purely into fight/flight. He went into his kitchenette, selected a knife, and went back to his ragged couch to wait. He didn't remember falling asleep.  
  
Apocalypse found the apartment easily, and the room. The chain on the door and even the deadbolt presented no problem. He entered the small apartment, the dark not bothering him. He scanned the room... there. The fool was asleep on the couch. This was too easy. He began to get suspicious. He had to be up to something... He was wary as he stalked over to the couch, but encountered no problems. He filled a syringe with a powerful (AN: AGH!!!! Almost typed aphrodisiac...) anaesthetic, and plunged it into the hacker's arm. He twitched once, and his breathing slowed even more. He wasn't dead, just unconscious. He was worth more alive.  
  
Mouse opened his eyes, slowly. He tried to remember what had happened... The FBI... Apocalypse... Yes, that was it. He tried to get up, to try and prepare for when he came, but found he couldn't. He couldn't see. He figured his eyes must have sleep in them, and tried to reach up and rub them. He couldn't do that, either. He began to panic, before he took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to relax. He was in his apartment. He was just overtired. Right? He finally forced his eyes open. Instead of finding himself on the couch of his dark apartment, he was lying across the leather back seat of a car. He could just see the lights of the highway rushing by. He laid still a little longer, until he could raise his head. He moved it just a few inches, so he could see the driver. As he had suspected, it was Apocalypse... 


	5. So what if he makes it?

Apocalypse noticed as soon as the hacker awoke, although he pretended not to. He kept his concentration on the road. Besides, it wasn't as if the hacker could do anything about it, even if he regained full use of his limbs any time soon.   
  
Morpheus stood in the abandoned hotel in front of the white haired woman. "Switch," he said, "after this there is no turning back." He sat in the faded red chair behind him, pulling a small box from his pocket as he did. The woman leaned forward, curious. He opened the silver container and dumped its contents into his palms. He held one hand out to her, uncurling the fingers as he spoke...  
  
Apocalypse swore to himself, mentally. 'Great, just what I need... a roadblock...' He looked out the window at the ancient hotel next to the car. He wasn't concerned about the road block, he had some phony badges in his pockets that identified him as a police officer, he could always pretend he was escorting a prisoner. A faint smile touched his lips as he thought about how flawless his plan was. 'Damn, I'm good...'  
  
Switch observed the blue pill sitting in the large hand of the man in front of her. At last, after all this time, she was about to learn the truth. She would find out what the Matrix was. She only half listened to Morpheus's speech telling her she could still go back. She couldn't. She could not allow herself to give up after all this. It was too late. He uncurled his other hand, revealing a red pill. Without even waiting for him to finish his sentence, she leaned forward and snatched it from him. She knew what it would do, and she knew she wanted it. There was nothing left for her, in this world. She contemplated the pill for just a moment before seizing the glass of water on the table before her and swallowing the pill. Morpheus looked a little startled, but pleased.   
  
"Follow me." He said, standing.   
  
She followed him through a door behind his chair that she hadn't noticed before. Several other people were waiting inside. She paid them no mind, only glancing at the slim black haired woman in tight black leather who lead her to a chair. Without pausing to introduce herself, the woman applied a few electrodes to Switch's forehead. The people in the room began to speak, but Switch ignored them. 'I'm on my way...' she thought...  
  
Apocalypse glowered at the cars in front of him as they crept through the blockade. The prisoner in the back was beginning to stir more, regain use of his body. Apocalypse hadn't planned on this kind of interruption when he had planned the dosage, and this irritated him. He moved his car up another few inches, pressing close to the car in front of him. A strange sensation passed over his skull, almost like an electrical current. He ran his olive hand over his slicked back hair, wondering. Another feeling began in his hand, like cold gel running up his fingers, to his arm, to his shoulder, to his neck... It spread onward, an invisible coldness. He did not allow himself to panic, not until it reached his mouth...  
  
Mouse, watching from behind, saw the assassin's back suddenly arch. The driver opened his mouth and made only strange gurgling noises. With that, he vanished. Mouse's eyes grew wide. "The Matrix..." he whispered. He realized that he had full control of his muscles again. Raising his head slightly, he saw the flickering red and blue lights of police cars. "A blockade..." he muttered. He didn't know if it was there for him or not, nor did he care. He carefully worked the lock open, pushing the door open. He stepped out into the chilly street. The police all seemed interested in something ahead that Mouse couldn't see, and he took advantage of this. He walked, as slowly and calmly as he could, until he reached the nearest intersection. There he forced his trembling legs into the fastest run he could manage, and he didn't stop until he reached his apartment. He threw open the still unlocked door, slammed it behind him, threw all the locks shut, and allowed himself to slide down until he was sitting, leaned against the door. He only had time to consider how lucky he was before he fell into a state of unconcious sleep...  
  
Morpheus leapt up from the battered seat on the Nebuchadnezzer, pulling the plug out of his head. He rounded on Trinity, confusion and anger contorting his face. "What the hell just happened?"  
  
This uncharactaristic display of anger and profanity startled Trinity almost as much as what the scrolling code on the screen before her was displaying.   
  
Cypher spoke up from his examination of the code "Well, we got Switch, but it looks like we got a...hitchhiker..." He stared once again at the code.  
  
"And what," questioned Morpheus, his calm returning, "does that mean?"  
  
Trinity looked up in wonder. "I've heard of that. Every so often, maybe in 1 in a 100 unplugings, something goes... wrong... No one has yet been able to figure out what it is, but the unplugging effect seems to rebound and spread until it finds the nearest plugged human. When it does, it unplugs them as well."  
  
Morpheus looked briefly stunned. "Run a check on this person, whoever they are. Find out all you can about them."  
  
"Yes sir." Cypher answered, smartly.  
  
"Meanwhile, Tank, you and Dozer can get them both out of the Pool."  
  
"Both, sir? We don't know-"  
  
"You heard me!"  
  
"Yessir."  
  
When Mouse awoke, he was almost afraid to open his eyes. Maybe the whole escape had just been a bad dream? He opened them a slit, just enough for him to see the afternoon sunshine glowing through his dirty curtains. He heaved a sigh of relief, staggered off to his kitchen to get some food. Having eaten, he felt sufficiently recovered to go back to his computer. On a whim, he went to the FBI site. His name was gone from the list. He scanned the whole thing, just to be sure. It was gone. He blinked at it a few times, then shrugged. "Whatever..." He opened his hotmail account, peered blearily at the messages. Suddenly, his screen went dark. He swore at it, the message had looked like a job. He tried all the escapes he knew, but to no avail. "Bloody thing..." his hand had just reached for the restart button when green letters appeared, one by one, on the screen. He took one look at them before leaping up, pleased. At last, he would discover the truth about his world, discover the secret of The Matrix.  
  
Ooooh, semi-cliffhanger!!! I think I'll update tomorrow, now this story is moving. Yay! 


End file.
